


It's Like a Fairy Tale

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Series: Waiter!Leo [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: (except not really), Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Argentina National Team, Cristiano is himself, FC Barcelona, Gen, Leo is his waiter, M/M, Real Madrid CF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4465457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cristiano can't look away from him.</p><p>It's not just because Leo cuts an extremely attractive figure... Because yes, Cristiano definitely wants to reach out and palm that ass, wants to feel for himself how cushy those cheeks are, wants to hear the breathy sounds Leo makes in response... But that's not why he's staring. No... There's something about Leo that seems extremely familiar to Cristiano. He just can't figure out what it is.</p><p>But he will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first AU! Or, rather it's half an AU since Cris and the Real Madrid players are all themselves... But Leo is a waiter. That's still an AU right?!
> 
> Idk, got this stuck in my head and it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. Hope you enjoy!

Cristiano's not really paying attention to what Sergio's saying. 

The whole team is out to celebrate their latest win, and Sergio's going on and on about how great the restaurant is. Mostly everyone has been seated, but for some reason it's taking a little extra time to get the last table ready. While they're waiting, Cristiano scrolls though his latest emails and tunes all of it out until he hears his name. "What?" he says, nudging Iker out of the way so he can see Sergio. "What about me?"

Sergio laughs. "I said he's just your type." At Cristiano's blank look, he rolls his eyes. "Weren't you listening to anything I said?" Behind Sergio, Iker is closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead in irritation.

Cristiano shrugs and sticks his phone in his pocket. "Assume I wasn't," he says dryly, ignoring the way Fábio has turned away and is sniggering into Marcelo's shoulder.

Sergio sighs. "I said that I come here all the time because the food is amazingly good, like out of this world good, but the waiters are an added bonus." When Cristiano arches an eyebrow, Sergio smirks. "Great eye candy."

Cristiano twirls his hand in the air, waiting for Sergio to get to the point. "And what does that have to do with me?" he asks, crossing his arms. "I like eye candy? Who doesn't like eye candy?"

"Oh," Sergio says, straightening. "The host said our waiter is going to be Leo tonight. I've had him before. He's totally cute." He looks pointedly at Cristiano. "And like I said before, definitely your type."

Now it's Cristiano's turn to smirk. "So you're saying I might get lucky tonight?" He ignores Iker throwing his hands up in disgust and instead runs a hand through his hair. "Excellent."

Sergio's eyes widen. "No, no, no," he hisses, looking around furtively. "He's like everyone's little brother here and they're all super protective of him." He looks back at Cristiano and points threateningly. "You can hit on anybody except him. I know you. You'll take him home, screw him, and never call him again... Then I won't be able to come here anymore."

"So what you're saying," Gareth says from where he's been lurking behind Cristiano, "is we can look, but don't touch?" His words are hesitant as he spits them out in heavily accented Spanish, but he looks rather proud of himself for getting the saying correct.

Sergio nods approvingly. "Exactly. Eye candy only." He slings an arm around Iker as the host returns and beckons for them to follow. "Besides," Sergio murmurs over his shoulder, "he's way too sweet for you. You'll ruin him."

Cristiano thinks he should be offended by such a statement, but it's probably true so he holds his tongue and continues into the room. The group follows the host to their table, passing their teammates, and it's all Cristiano can do to hold back his appreciative murmurs once he sees the waiters. They're all dressed in tight black tshirts and black dress pants, with black aprons tied around trim waists. A few of them wink at Sergio as they pass by, though there's one young man who looks rather disgruntled.

Once all of them are seated, Fábio leans around Cristiano. "I thought you said look but don't touch," he says to Sergio. "I have a feeling you haven't been following your own rules," he says laughing as Sergio reddens. The others join in and Iker shakes his head disapprovingly.

"Okay," Sergio bites out. "So I may have been a little, unwise, when I first started coming here. It was just him, though," he says, opening up his menu. "I mean, *look* at him," he says, turning to peek back over his shoulder. 

They all follow his gaze back to the waiter. The man in question gives Sergio a glare before turning his back and focusing on the table he was assigned. 

Iker pats Sergio on the back. "Yeah... I don't know how anyone could resist that smiling face. But you didn't sleep with our waiter, right? Because I don't want anyone messing with our food." 

Sergio looks affronted. "I said it was just him," he hisses. "And everyone shut up because here Leo comes." He pulls away from Iker and goes back to looking at his menu. "And don't embarrass me! He thinks I'm cool."

"Right," Marcelo drawls, exchanging a look with Cristiano. And Cristiano wants to laugh, because honestly if anyone is going to be causing a scene here, it's Sergio, and they all know it, but his amusement dies away as the waiter arrives at the table.

Cristiano can immediately see why Sergio warned him off Leo. He's short, with silky dark hair spilling over friendly-looking dark eyes. His black tshirt is tight across his chest, drawing attention to his slim figure and a gorgeously tattooed arm, while the pants are stretched teasingly across a surprisingly plump ass. 

Cristiano licks his lips.

Fábio nudges him under the table. "Look, but don't touch," he mouths quickly.

"Hello everyone, I'm Leo and I'll be taking care of you tonight," Leo says, introducing himself and smiling as he looks around at everyone at the table. 

Cristiano waits for the moment of realization, the stuttering and shock that usually accompanies the 'oh my god' and 'can I get your autograph' that all of them get when they eat out together. But it never comes. In fact Leo disappointingly skims right over Cristiano's face as he glances at each of them individually, and doesn't seem thrown until he gets to Sergio's. 

"Oh! Sergio! I didn't realize you were here tonight." Leo's smile grows brighter, showing off brilliant white teeth. He leans in closer to whisper conspiringly. "Should I see if I can switch tables with Pipita?"

Sergio coughs awkwardly as Iker laughs. "Maybe not the best idea," he says sadly, glancing behind him. "But, uh, thank you, Leo." He ignores the smirks he's getting from Marcelo and Fábio.

Leo nods smiling. "Well, alright then," he says cheerfully, turning back to the rest of them. "I heard you're celebrating some sort of victory, so if you've decided on drinks, I can take that order now. Otherwise I can come back in a few minutes." 

Iker orders a beer, looking at Leo curiously. "Did you not watch the game?" he asks, genuinely surprised. The others wait for the answer curiously, it not having occurred to them that someone could have missed it. It's slowly dawning on them that Leo has no idea who they are.

Leo laughs softly. "I'm afraid I don't follow much football. I knew Sergio played, because he's mentioned it before, but I didn't realize it was for such a big team," he says, scribbling down Iker's order and turning to take Sergio's, Marcelo's, and then Fábio's. Iker looks perplexed, either at the thought of someone not knowing Sergio plays for Real Madrid or the not following football in general, but eventually looks back down at his menu.

Cristiano follows Leo with his eyes as the smaller man rounds the table and waits patiently for Gareth to decide on a glass of wine. Gareth twitches through his order, asking a few questions about reds and whites, and Leo kindly recommends a few vintages. The kind smile never disappears from his face.

Cristiano can't look away from him. 

It's not just because Leo cuts an extremely attractive figure... Because yes, Cristiano definitely wants to reach out and palm that ass, wants to feel for himself how cushy those cheeks are, wants to hear the breathy sounds Leo makes in response... But that's not why he's staring. No... There's something about Leo that seems extremely familiar to Cristiano. He just can't figure out what it is.

But he will. 

When Leo reaches him, Cristiano orders a drink and gives the waiter his best sultry smile. "Have we met before?" he asks, tilting his head back to look at at Leo appreciatively, taking in the clearly muscled chest and studying the intricate tattoo now that Leo's a little closer. "I can't place you, but you seem familiar." He stares at Leo, giving him his best smile--the one that causes most people to drop to their knees immediately. "Very familiar."

Cristiano can practically feel Iker face palming, but he ignores him.

Leo's eyes dart away from Cristiano's, pen moving over his notepad. "I don't think so," he says, laughter coloring his voice and seeming genuinely amused by Cristiano's comments. He looks back up, and meets Cristiano's eyes. "I'd *definitely* remember meeting you." A soft blush spreads across his cheeks as if he's embarrassed by his own boldness and he ducks his head. "I'll go put this order in and be back in a few minutes."

Cristiano watches intently as Leo strides away to the bar.

"Interesting tactic," Fábio says, breaking the silence. When Cristiano turns to look at him, he raises an eyebrow. "Pretending you've met before, I mean." He takes a sip of his water before turning his attention back to his menu. "Not sure that's what I would have gone with, but, I mean, if you can't fall back on 'I'm Cristiano Ronaldo and I'm the best football player in the world,' I guess it could work."

Sergio sighs. "What did I just tell you, Cris? Please. Leave him alone. You could have anybody." He pouts and looks imploringly at Iker. "Tell him!"

Iker shrugs. "What do I care if he picks him up?" But then he narrows his eyes and looks at Cristiano. "So long as it's after I get my food. No quickies between courses," he says as Sergio splutters next to him.

Marcelo and Gareth laugh, but Cristiano shakes his head. "Fuck you guys. I'm serious. I know him from somewhere." He looks back over to where Leo's talking to the bartender. "I just really can't figure out where. Shit, it's going to bother me all night." 

Fábio looks over at Leo too. "Is it the tattoo? Because otherwise he really just looks like the guys you usually go for." Cristiano stares at him blankly, but Fábio is undeterred. "Cute as opposed to hot, short, dark hair, soft spoken..." He trails off and shrugs. "Well it's true. You do have a type. Granted, they're usually football fans, but they all look about the same."

"Hmmm." Cristiano sits back in his chair and scratches his jaw. "Okay, so I have a type," he says, ignoring the 'you do' muttered by Marcelo and Iker simultaneously. "But that not it," he protests. "I know him."

"You *want* to know him," Fábio says laughing, closing his menu. He looks back over towards the bar. "Can't blame you," he says appreciatively, watching as Leo bends over to pick up a napkin that's fallen to the floor. "Great ass. I'd hit it."

The words are barely out of Fábio's mouth when another waiter walks by. This one's larger than Leo, short with a mohawk and dark eyes, but barrel chested with strong looking arms. He narrows his eyes at them and tightens his fingers on the tray he's carrying, obviously overhearing, but then continues on his way.

Sergio cringes. "I told you they were protective of him." He drops his head into his hands. "Can everyone please stop! I'm really never going to be able to come here again. Oh god the food is so good, I can't give it up, I can't." He continues to mumble, but the words are mostly indiscernible. 

Iker pats him on the back. "Alright, alright, guys," he says to the rest of the table. "Everyone figure out what they want to order so that when he comes back we can tell him."

Cristiano frowns, still trying to remember how he knows Leo, but turns his attention back to his menu. It's not long before their waiter returns, this time with the tray of drinks. 

As Leo carefully places each drink on the table, Cristiano fingers the menu. "So you said you don't really follow football," he says, as Leo places his soda down. When Leo smiles apologetically and shakes his head slightly, Cristiano can't help asking, "So you've never come to one of our games?" 

Leo tucks the empty tray under his arm, straightens up, and dries his hands on his apron. "I don't really have the time," he says, pulling out his notepad and pen. "I'm more of a Barcelona fan, anyways," he says, winking as Cristiano frowns.

"Leo?!" Sergio says. "You aren't really?" he asks, looking horrified. Iker chokes on his beer while Marcelo, Gareth, and Fábio all make faces. "Please, please, please, tell me you're kidding." He clutches at his menu in dismay while Iker fumbles for a napkin.

Leo laughs. "Okay, not really," he says to everyone's relief. "I grew up there, but I don't know anything about the team. Somebody in the kitchen told me to say that to you guys." He laughs again, dimples appearing out of nowhere, as they all relax back into their seats, and eventually he begins to make his way around the table to take orders.

Cristiano finds himself smiling without meaning to. "So it wasn't at a game," he says, thinking out loud. When Leo reaches him, Cristiano orders his dinner. As Leo reaches out to take his menu, Cristiano tightens his hand. "Come on," he says, watching Leo's eyes darken. He looks again at Leo's face, taking in the curve of his jaw, the pink lips, the faint lines across his forehead. "There must be somewhere, that you can think of, where maybe I've seen you." He releases the menu and Leo adds it to the stack he's holding.

Leo opens his mouth and then closes it, taking a deep breath before ducking his head. "Maybe," he says, tilting his head to the side. "I--I shouldn't say this, but at night I tend bar at the club down the street," he finally says. "Do you think, maybe that's where you've seen me?" It's his turn to study Cristiano. "I want to say there's something familiar about you too, but..." He shrugs helplessly, not knowing what else to say.

Cristiano imagines Leo in a tight tank top, hair sticking to his forehead and pale skin glowing under spotlights in a dark club, pushing a drink across the bar. Cristiano would probably prowl around the dance floor for awhile, always watching Leo, eventually returning and slipping a napkin with his number into Leo's tight pants--or maybe, pinning him against the door in the men's room... Cristiano licks his lips, but sighs, disappointed. "No," he says, propping up his chin on his hand. "I've never been there."

Leo gives him half a smile and turns to leave, but Sergio stops him. "I thought," he says, looking uncertainly at Leo, "I thought you worked here at night." He looks over at Iker who's shaking his head and rubbing his forehead. "You're always here when I come for dinner."

Leo smiles gently at Sergio. "No, you're right," he says softly, hoisting the stack of menus onto his hip. "But I work my shift here, and then when the restaurant closes, most nights, I go work at the club." He looks down for a moment at the menus and then musters another smile. "Madrid is an expensive city to live in," he says, before gesturing towards the kitchen and walking off to put their order in.

Cristiano frowns, because he wasn't always wealthy, and he knows he's not the only one at the table who remembers being poor. In the end, it's Marcelo who shakes his head. "Sergio," he starts to say, but Sergio holds up a hand.

"I know, okay," Sergio says, leaning his head onto Iker's shoulder. "I'm sorry." He scrunches his face up. "I forget sometimes, that not everybody makes as much as we do." Iker combs his fingers through Sergio's hair comfortingly.

The conversation drifts after that, and when Leo brings their meals with a smile, it appears all is forgotten. 

They all dig into their food eagerly, Sergio moaning repeatedly and telling them, "I told you so," over and over. "Now you see why I want to be able to come back here," he says, licking some sauce off his fork. He accidentally smears some of it on his cheek in his haste, yanking his head away when Iker tries to clean it off.

Cristiano rolls his eyes, but even he can agree that the food is excellent.

Leo checks in on them periodically, refilling drinks, and fetching a few new napkins when Sergio decides he needs to confiscate Gareth's in order to make some sort of napkin art. Cristiano amuses himself by smiling seductively at Leo every time he can. He also makes eye contact while slowly sucking his fingers clean when Leo asks how his dinner is. Leo's cheeks are permanently pink, but there's still a smile playing about his lips, and he's obviously flattered by Cristiano's attentions.

It's not until dessert is mentioned that the table really manages to make Leo uncomfortable again.


	2. Chapter 2

Sergio immediately goes for the creme catalana. The others take some time to decide. And Fábio seems particularly undecided as he stares down at the selection of desserts. "Do you have a recommendation, Leo?" he asks, looking torn, as if choosing wrongly will ruin his night. In a way, it will, because this is one of the few times they're all allowing themselves to forget their strict diets.

Leo laughs. "I've been told that the chocolate mousse is particularly good," he says, leaning over Fábio and pointing to the description. As he does so, he brushes against Cristiano's shoulder.

The touch is feather light, but Cristiano can't tell if it's on purpose or not. He's trying to think of a question that will force Leo to lean closer to him when Fábio continues.

Fábio purses his lips. "But what do you like?" he asks, still focused on the list.

Leo runs a hand through his hair and shifts away slightly. "Oh," he says, looking down at his notepad. "I've never had any of them," he says honestly. "So, I really can't say... But the chocolate one always smells delicious." He taps his pen on his notepad. "I'd probably order that."

Sergio looks at Leo curiously. "So when you eat here you don't get dessert? Why not? Everything is so good!" He smiles, gushing about the restaurant, hoping it will make Leo happy.

Unfortunately, Leo's smile dims slightly and his cheeks flush--more of a red than a pink this time. But once again, he's honest. "I can't afford to eat here, Sergio," he says quietly, flicking his eyes up and accidentally catching Cristiano's before looking back down. He clears his throat. "But I'm sure it's all wonderful," he says, powering on, trying to fill the silence.

Iker reaches out and slaps the back of Sergio's head.

While Sergio rubs his head mournfully, Gareth and Iker both order ice cream and Fábio and Marcelo choose the chocolate mousse. Leo collects their dessert menus quietly, but Marcelo hands his over and tries to get Leo back into good spirits. "Oh, Leo, I meant to say," the defender says, looking at Leo's arm. "I love your ink. If you don't mind me asking, what's that there?" He points to what looks like the image of a cathedral window between brightly colored flowers.

Leo smiles kindly at him. "Oh," he says, turning his arm to let Marcelo get a good look. "It's not finished yet, but it's inspired by La Sagrada Família." He shrugs. "I went to school near there, and well, I didn't really enjoy it. School, that is," he says shaking his head. "But, I used to go and sit and just look at the church--at the beautiful spires and the façades... And there was just something about it that made me feel better." He bites his lip. "And now that I live here, well, I just wanted something that reminded me of it--reminded me of that one place that gave me hope."

Cristiano slams his menu shut. "Oh my god," he says, mind whirling. "That's it. That's how I know you." He grins, unable to contain his glee. He finally, finally figured it out, and he's overjoyed.

The others turn to him and Leo looks confused. 

"Leo for Lionel, yes?" Cristiano asks.

Leo nods.

"Lionel Messi, yes?" Cristiano asks again, teasingly, even though he's positive by now that he's right.

Leo hesitantly nods again.

Cristiano throws his hands up, gesturing to himself. "And you still don't recognize me?" When Leo remains still, Cristiano smiles. "We went to school together! I guess it has been over ten years... fifteen, really... And we've both grown, me more than you, though obviously," he adds, rubbing his chin and giving Leo another once over.

Leo's smile becomes forced. "Oh," he says, "I'm sorry. I don't remember you." His fingers have tightened on the stack of menus he's holding. "I wasn't really close with many people at school."

Cristiano leans back in his chair and threads his fingers behind his head. "Oh, but I remember you. They used to call you the flea," he says, lips curling. "Because you were so small and fast, and always running away from everyone." He stares at Leo's face, drinking in his features, remembering that boy he once knew. "Of course you said you didn't like school. But that's really because you didn't have any friends, did you?"

Leo makes a small, pained sound, and Iker kicks Cristiano under the table.

But Cristiano doesn't stop. "No, actually, you had the one. That scraggly boy. You two were pretty pathetic, always together, always sitting and looking at that church." He doesn't look away from Leo's eyes. "You used to give him half of your lunch every day." He laughs. "The kid couldn't afford his own. And you only had a sandwich, didn't you? But you'd still give him half."

Leo swallows hard. "Yes," he says faintly, trembling slightly. His knuckles are turning white as his hold on the menus grows even tighter.

"Gave him his first kiss too," Cristiano continues. He raises his eyebrows. "I don't know why. He was an ugly, weedy thing--crooked teeth and terrible hair, spots everywhere--"

"Shut up!" Leo finally hisses, dropping the menus on the table. The others jump, startled, but don't say anything. Leo's chest is heaving and he's clearly furious, clenching his fists at his sides. 

Cristiano doesn't lose his smile. "Why? He left you, didn't he? Moved away." He tilts his head to the said. "You think he thought about you?"

Leo grits his teeth. "It doesn't matter," he says, the fight leaving him. He takes a deep breath and looks down at the table. "He was my friend," he mutters, shaking his head, refusing to look at Cristiano. "I'm sorry, I need to check something in the kitchen." He turns on his heel and walks shakily into the kitchen.

"And I thought Sergio was bad," Iker says. "What the fuck was that, Cris?" He crosses his arms and looks disapprovingly across the table. "Leo's been nothing but nice, and certainly didn't deserve that."

"Yeah, man," Marcelo says, frowning. "Dick move. I know you're an asshole, but sometimes I don't get you at all. Jesus."

Cristiano stares after where Leo disappeared. "You don't understand," he says softly. "I was the boy."

"What do you mean?" Gareth asks, exchanging a look of confusion with Fábio.

Cristiano sighs. "I was the ugly boy with the bad hair and bad teeth." He looks at Gareth who's staring back with wide eyes. "My family was poor, I've told you all how it was. My mother couldn't afford to send me to school with anything." He shakes his head and smiles. "But, Leo, little Lionel who didn't have much either--who the kids all chased around and made fun of for no good reason... Leo would share with me."

"Oh my god. You were in love with him," breathes Sergio, hand grabbing at Iker's sleeve. "It's like a fairy tale!" 

Cristiano looks down at the table. "I didn't want to leave him," he says, aimlessly drawing with his finger. "But football was my way out, and I took it." He looks back up. "I tried to find him," he says helplessly, "when I made it big at Manchester. But by then he'd left school too."

Gareth clears his throat. "Well, I'm not sure what you are trying to do here, but I think you owe him an apology." 

Cristiano runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I know," he says. "I just got so excited." He's feeling too many emotions to be able to put it all into words, everything overwhelming for the first time in years. It's unsettling.

Just then the disapproving waiter with the mohawk appears. "Hello, I'm Kun," he says tightly, glaring at Cristiano. "Leo realized he didn't get your dessert order, sir." His words are dripping with disdain. "Why don't you tell me what you want and I'll personally make sure it gets to you." 

He doesn't look at anyone else at the table.

"If I order something are you going to spit in it?" Cristiano asks calmly.

Kun's face doesn't change. "I don't know why you would think that, sir."

Cristiano closes his menu and places it on top of the stack Leo left on the table. "Nothing for me then," he says.

Sergio coughs. "Um, Kun?" he says, cringing a bit as that stare is turned towards him. "Can you ask Leo to come back? We'd really like to apologize to him." 

Kun sticks his notepad into his apron and gathers up the menus. "I'll see if he wants to," he says, shrugging, before walking off to the kitchen.

Sergio turns to Cristiano. "And by 'we,'" he says pointedly, "I mean 'you.'" 

Whatever Sergio is going to say next is cut off as Leo appears and walks towards their table. Cristiano can see that Kun is watching them from the doorway to the kitchen, talking anxiously to a few of the other waiters. 

Cristiano takes a deep breath. "You really don't recognize me?" he asks, unable to help himself. 

Leo's ever-present smile is missing. "I'm sorry, sir," he says looking at Cristiano with weary eyes. "I don't... As you said, I only had one school friend. And if, as you say, you went to school with me, then you'll know that when he left, I had none." He picks up Iker's empty beer bottle and turns to leave again.

"I think you should sit and have dessert with us," Cristiano says all in a rush.

Leo half turns back. "What?" he asks, looking tired.

"I want to buy you dessert. Or dinner, or whatever you want," Cristiano says, heart starting to race. 

Leo turns all the way to face him. "What?" he repeats, staring at Cristiano.

Cristiano stands up, his chair screeching slightly. "Did you ever wonder what happened to your friend? That scraggly boy who desperately needed braces and a haircut? Who couldn't afford his own lunch?" He takes another deep breath. "That boy who, one day, was sitting on the grass outside the church, eating half of your peanut butter sandwich, and couldn't help reaching over and kissing you when he saw how you looked in the sun..."

Leo opens his mouth and then shuts it, still confused, still not understanding.

Cristiano smiles. "Did you ever think that maybe, he only moved away to pursue his dream? Maybe he made it big?" He laughs. "And maybe, he grew up." 

Leo looks him up and down slowly, taking a step back.

"Maybe he was bombarded with 'old school friends' who all wanted to see him, wanted to talk to him, wanted to *know* him now that he was famous: guys who wanted to be seen with him, wanted to take pictures, wanted to tell anyone and everyone how they went to school together and were the best of friends." Cristiano scoffs.

Around him, his teammates make similar faces.

Cristiano's smile returns. "But he knew the truth," he says quietly. "And he waited and waited, wondering when his one true friend--that boy who shared his sandwiches, who gave him his first kiss, who liked him when he was poor and ugly--would show up." 

He takes a step in Leo's direction. "But you never did show up, and I always wondered why."

Leo doesn't move, frozen in place, as Cristiano approaches him.

"But now I get it, Leo," Cristiano says, smoothing a thumb across Leo's cheek. "If only you had followed football--I would have found you years ago."

Leo's gone pale, staring up at Cristiano's face in shock. "No," he murmurs, "no, it's not possible..." He drops the beer bottle he was clutching, not even flinching as it smashes to pieces against the floor. 

Cristiano laughs again, uncaring of the mess at their feet, watching as Leo's eyes search his. And it's been years, but he thinks, as he strokes Leo's cheek, that Leo's skin is just as soft as he remembers. 

But then Leo's yanked out of his arms and Kun is in his face.

"I don't care who the fuck you are," Kun says, shoving Cristiano back. "Leave him alone." He turns back to Leo. "Are you okay, Leo?" He pulls Leo into his embrace protectively and calls over his head, "Ángel, go get Masche."

Leo doesn't answer, breathing heavily and holding a hand to his mouth while the other hand fists in Kun's tshirt.

Another waiter with dark hair and sharp cheekbones backs away and runs for the kitchen, despite Sergio standing up and yelling, "No! Don't get Masche! Everything's fine!" Some of their teammates at other tables are standing up now, concerned, but Cristiano waves a hand at them, motioning for them to sit again.

Masche, a short man with a shaved head and a thundering expression, appears almost immediately. "What's the problem?" he asks, making his way over to Kun's side. He lightly rests his hand on Leo's back, staring at Cristiano angrily.

Kun jerks his head in Cristiano's direction. "This guy's been bothering Leo all night. It's time for him to leave." He tries to push Leo behind him."I'll help you escort him out."

Iker stands up and holds his hands out placatingly as Masche cracks his knuckles menacingly, but it's Leo who speaks up. "No," he says, pulling on Kun's shirt. "It's okay. I--I know him." He's still pale, but a bit of color is starting to come back into his cheeks.

Masche crosses his arms and stands in front of Cristiano as Kun turns to Leo. "Are you just saying that, Leo?" Kun asks, cupping Leo's head. "Because we can get rid of him. I swear it's no problem. Mr. Martino will understand." 

Leo shakes his head. "No," he says, a smile starting to creep onto his face. "I know him." He laughs. "I do. I just can't believe it's really him."

Kun takes one look at his face and curses. "Shit. Masche, go tell them not to key his car after all." Masche snorts, but heads back to the kitchen.

"Kun!" Leo says, eyes widening. "He's just joking," he says, peering back around at Cristiano.

Kun claps Leo on the shoulder. "Of course," he says, turning to look at Cristiano too. "Just kidding." He bares his teeth in the mockery of a smile. "I guess I'll leave you guys to it," he says backing away. Once he's out of Leo's sight he points two fingers at his eyes and then at Cristiano's, mouthing, "I'm watching you."

Leo stares at Cristiano, seemingly unable to look away. "He just did that thing where he points at his eyes and then back at you, right?" he asks.

Iker and Sergio sit back down. "Yeah," Sergio admits, trying to hide his laughter.

Leo shakes his head. "I'm sorry, he's just..." He trails off, still staring at Cristiano. "But you..." He walks over until he's inches from Cristiano, intently studying his face. "You have grown up, haven't you?" he asks softly. "The Cristiano I knew never would have teased me so."

Sergio begins whispering to himself. "I've got it--it's 'The Ugly Duckling' meets 'Cinderella'... Wait, no, 'Beauty and the Beast'? Wait... Are they both Cinderella?"

Cristiano, smiling, tunes him out and lets Leo stare. "A lot can change in fifteen years," he says shrugging. "I'm a different person now than I was then... And you're probably different too." He licks his lips, self consciously, before speaking again. "I'd like to find out how different," he says earnestly, watching Leo's eyes darken. "So, will you?"

Leo smiles. "Will I what?"

Cristiano laughs. "Will you let me buy you dessert?" He grins. "I've heard the chocolate mousse is particularly good." At the table, Iker face palms again, and it sounds like Sergio's sniffling, but Cristiano can't be bothered. 

Especially when Leo's dimples reappear. 

"I'd like that, Cristiano. I'd like that very much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? I kinda like the idea of footballer Cris/ waiter Leo :)


End file.
